


A Reprieve

by hello_imasalesman



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur is sad and deserves to get his ass eaten, Established Relationship, Insecurity, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rimming, thats the plot thats the whole story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 03:08:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hello_imasalesman/pseuds/hello_imasalesman
Summary: Smoking a cigarette on the edge of the swamp at Shady Belle, Arthur quietly points out that the rooms in Van Horn were cheap and warm and surprisingly louse free. So of course, Kieran follows.





	A Reprieve

Van Horn is a nasty little town, riverside but without any of the charm being on the water usually brings. It smells vaguely of rotting water life, briny and sharp, and the pollution from Annesburg upstream; and those were on the better days, when someone hadn’t left their horse or dog or wife on the side of the road to decompose until the bones were picked clean by carrion.

Kieran wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Arthur. But Dutch needed dynamite, for some other grand scheme, and, as Arthur quietly pointed out smoking a cigarette on the edge of the swamp at Shady Belle, the rooms were cheap and warm and surprisingly louse free. Of course Kieran follows. He would follow, even if Arthur was leading him to some other mosquito-ridden swamp and the beds were filled with vermin; it’s a bonus, though, that the air is crisp and cool, even if it smells of old fish. And with the door closed and the fire burning low in the rented room, it doesn’t smell like much of anything at all. So maybe Kieran shouldn’t complain, after all.

Arthur turns the lock as he crowds Kieran up against the door, kisses him until Kieran’s body sags and his lips part. The day is quickly fading, an orange light streaming through the gauzy, moth-bitten curtains. It lights the room in soft shades, makes Arthur look golden up close as he twists his fingers into Kieran’s neckerchief and leads him towards the bed.

“Let me start the fire proper.” Arthur murmurs against Kieran’s lips. His hands move from his neck, to his head, knocks his hat off onto the quilt to run his hand over Kieran’s long hair.

“‘Course.” He watches Arthur turn for the log rack in the corner of the room. It’s getting dark; Kieran busies himself, stands and shuffles for the gas lamp on the rickety side-table.

“What’re you doing?” Arthur asks, his voice gruff.

Kieran lights the lamps, the faint smell of gas hitting him as he twists them on. “So we can see, ‘n all.”

“Fireplace is plenty of light,” Arthur mumbles, his voice lost as he tosses logs into the hearth.

Arthur handles himself in bed with the kind of insecurity Kieran would have expected from a virginal maid, and not a grizzled outlaw who has killed more men than he’s bedded. Kieran isn’t pretty by any stretch of the imagination, but he knows that, and doesn’t mind; at least, it’s never held him back in these sorts of matters, since if someone was naked in his room with him, it implied at least a basic amount of attraction. It’s funny, the way Arthur sees himself, because he’s undeniably handsome to everyone but himself.

Kieran tells Arthur that, as he undresses, and Arthur says nothing, shakes his head as his thick fingers fumble with the buttons along Kieran’s shirt. Kisses him hard when he says it again, so he’s forced to close his eyes, their noses bumping together. Kieran palms Arthur’s stomach, card his fingers through the wiry hair there, feels it shiver under his touch. He moves to lie Kieran down on the bed, his body pressing against him, but Kieran touches his shoulder in a way and Arthur pauses, holds firm— acquiesces, as the sun slides under the wooded hills of Roanoke Ridge, pulling Kieran down on top of him, as if to cover his nakedness with Kieran’s own.

Kieran peppers kisses along Arthur’s chest, runs his fingers through the dark swath of hair there, his thumb rubbing over his nipple. He smells clean, like lye soap, as soft as someone like Arthur could be from soaking in the tub.

Kieran grips each of Arthur’s thick thighs, spreads his legs to settle on his knees between them. Arthur groans, with arousal and embarrassment, though the two are so tightly intertwined they may as well be the same emotion; as if he’s never felt pleasure without the threat of pain, never enjoyed unless under duress. He doesn’t talk about his past much, other than stories of the gang that always seem to feature the others more than him besides. That’s alright with Kieran; he can talk enough for the both of them, God only knows. Arthur smells like soap here, too, and arousal when he swallows him down, until the head of his cock bumps against the back of Kieran’s throat.

Arthur keeps an arm draped over his eyes, and a knuckle to his lips to stifle the sounds. It makes Kieran’s mouth sound particularly profane, wet and sucking, swallowing around his shaft as Arthur desperately refrains from vocalizing. Kieran squeezes his thighs, gets a little thrill at the involuntary way Arthur’s back twitches into an arch, so sensitive that it borders on ticklish.

Bill Williamson has pictures, thumbprint laden Daguerreotypes and French cartoons that he’s shared around the fire with Uncle and some of the other men, especially when he’s drunk, especially when Kieran is alone. He hates Bill, but the ideas those pictures gave him pool hot and heavy in the bottom of his stomach, make him bold.

Kieran’s lips make a wet pop as he pulls of Arthur’s cock, licks wantonly up his shaft. Arthur’s eyes are watching him, the highs of his cheeks uncovered by his beard colored rosy pink. Kieran presses a kiss to the crook of Arthur’s thighs, mouths wetly at his balls, sucking one into his mouth; that earns him another groan, stifled as it is.

With his hands on his thighs, Kieran suddenly pushes Arthur back and up to raise his hips, half doubled over on himself as Kieran licks down and buries his face between Arthur’s cheeks.

“Kieran—“ Arthur shouts, jolting forward; he buries his hands in Kieran’s hair, as if to yank him away, but his fingers flex uselessly as Kieran presses his tongue to his hole, licks him. He tangles his fingers through Kieran’s greasy strands, and pulls him forward, into him.

Kieran laps at his hole, groaning as he buries his face between Arthur’s cheeks. He grips Arthur’s thigh a little tighter, his fingers digging into the flesh there; when he’s sure he’s got a good grip, that he won’t fall over or off the bed, he lets go of his other thigh, reaching around and finding his wanting cock. He smears the precum leaking from the tip over the head, pumping down, strokes him hard and fast.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Kieran—“ Arthur chokes; his thighs are practically spasming under Kieran’s fingers, body trembling from exertion at the pose he’s in. “I can’t—“

Kieran licks him open, wet and shameless, moans as he presses his tongue into Arthur. He can feel his cock, hot and heavy, twitch before he comes; and when he does, Arthur curses, Arthur groans, and Kieran laps up his words, practically soaks him as he feels cum dripping down between his slowly pumping fingers. He keeps licking until Arthur’s fingers tug at his hair in warning, and Kieran finally pulls away, gently, so that Arthur’s lower back and ass do not hit the bed too hard; his own arms are a little sore, though he hadn’t realized it before. Arthur’s eyes are glassy, though they manage to focus on Kieran’s face, the wetness of his own saliva coating his mouth, his beard, the way it shines in the low light.

“C’mere,” Arthur’s voice is rough, rougher than it’s been in a long while, goes rougher still as Kieran cleans the cum off his fingers with his mouth with soft suckling sounds. “Kieran, please.”

From the fireplace, an ember pops from a log, fizzles out as soon as it hits the stone of the hearth. Kieran crawls up Arthur’s body, and as soon as he’s in range Arthur tangles his hands into Kieran’s hair, pulls him down for a crushing kiss; he licks into his mouth, a meeker mimicry that makes Kieran shiver all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @hello-imasalesman  
> currently in kieran/arthur hell so pls send requests or leave comments. Thanks for reading!


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